章 8: The Two of Them

As the golden hues of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting warm, fading light across the room, Sebastian stood beside Acier, who was now fully clothed. The two exchanged final pleasantries with the Agrippa and Faust couples. The day had been long, filled with discussions, plans, and cautious optimism. Yet, there was a palpable sense of unease as they all prepared to part ways for the night.

Acier, whose strength was slowly returning but still fragile, sat with Sebastian by her bedside, her eyes steady but her body still betraying the toll the recent events had taken. Draven, ever the enigmatic presence, waved his hand, causing a shadowy portal to swirl open on the wall behind him. It rippled like ink in water, dark and foreboding.

"We'll meet every day," Sebastian declared, his voice calm but firm. "From ten to eleven in the morning and again from three to five in the afternoon. We need to reconvene, discuss our research, and monitor Acier's and Nozel's conditions. These are delicate times. We can't afford to lose track of the next steps in their treatment."

The Agrippa couple nodded in agreement. Their worry was visible in their furrowed brows, but they said nothing more, understanding the weight of the situation. With a last glance at Acier, they stepped into the shadow portal, vanishing into its depths. Lilith, from the Fausts, followed soon after, her eyes lingering on Sebastian before disappearing into the dark passage.

Draven, standing at the edge of the portal, prepared to follow his wife, but just as he was about to step through, Sebastian reached out, stopping him mid-motion.

"Wait," Sebastian said, his tone holding a subtle edge.

Draven turned, a quizzical eyebrow raised. "Why?" he asked, his voice low and steady, not accustomed to being questioned or delayed.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and after a pause, he spoke with a cryptic warning. "Nacht may be talented, but he's too young—too reckless—to tame a supreme devil. It's dangerous, more than you know."

Draven's expression didn't change, but inwardly, he froze. Sebastian knew about Lucifugus, the devil they had been trying to subdue. But then again, Sebastian seemed to know everything, even the things that should've been hidden deep within the Faust family's dark dealings.

Draven's eyes grew sharp, his gaze like steel. "I know my limits," he responded coolly, his voice dripping with indifference. With a curt nod, he stepped into the swirling darkness, the portal snapping shut behind him before Sebastian could utter another word.

For a moment, Sebastian stood there, staring at the now-blank wall, wondering if Draven truly understood the danger. He sighed softly, his thoughts swirling. "Does he really get it?" he muttered to himself.

Finally, he turned around. The room had grown quieter, the remaining light dimming as night fully took hold. On the bed, Acier sat up, her form still delicate but her resolve visible in the way she held herself.

Now, it was just the two of them, alone.

As the room grew quiet, the absence of two key figures tugged at Sebastian's mind. He glanced toward the now-closed portal and then around the empty room. "Where are Nozel and Mereoleona?" he wondered aloud, frowning slightly.

Acier, still seated on the bed, smiled softly at his concern, her voice gentle but amused. "Nozel took Noelle to the maids so she could sleep peacefully. He's been away for a while, so he decided to return to the Silver Eagles. Took on a mission, I hear." She paused, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. "He needs to vent some stress."

Sebastian nodded, understanding Nozel's desire to dive back into his work. It was, after all, a common coping mechanism. But before he could dwell too much on Nozel, Acier continued. "As for Mereoleona, she left to head home for a bit. Preparing before she goes off to the grand magic zones again for training. She's always pushing herself."

Sebastian's brow furrowed at that. "That woman can't stay put," he muttered under his breath, a touch of frustration in his tone. There were still things he wanted to request of her. Mereoleona's strength and ferocity were legendary, and he had hoped she might give him some advice—or better yet, train him. He wanted to spar with her, test the gap between their strengths. Despite the memories he'd gained after transmigrating into Sebastian's body, he couldn't fully trust them. Sebastian, as he had come to know, was arrogant, blind to his weaknesses and his place in the world, much like many of the Clover Kingdom's nobles and royals.

Acier, catching the drift of his thoughts, smiled knowingly. "Mereoleona took one of our communication transponders," she said, breaking through his musings. "If we need her, we can reach out. No need to send another risky letter and expose ourselves."

Her words brought a hint of relief to Sebastian, though he kept his expression composed. Acier continued, her voice calm and reassuring. "Granted, the chaotic mana in some of the grand magic zones might interfere with the signal. But at least we won't have to worry about the distance. The magic communication tools we use are the best this kingdom has to offer."

Sebastian exhaled, feeling the weight of that reassurance settle in. His memories, though tainted by the arrogance of the previous Sebastian, allowed him to gauge the truth in Acier's words. The tools they possessed were indeed of the highest quality. And if Mereoleona had one of them, he knew she could be contacted when the need arose.

"Good," he said, nodding. "That eases my mind a little." But inwardly, he couldn't help but wish he had the chance to face her, to spar and get a real sense of his standing. Despite the memories, he needed to feel it for himself—to know exactly where he fit in this world of immense power.

As the room settled into a quiet lull, Acier shifted the conversation, her curiosity evident in her tone. "Why those specific times for the meetings?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Sebastian, still standing near the window, turned to her, his expression calm and measured. "It would be too suspicious if Solid and Nebra were constantly absent from the Silva estate while their mother is supposedly on her deathbed. The last thing we need is someone poking around. So, I'll summon them myself during their royal etiquette and magic lesson times. That way, they won't know about your or Nozel's situation, and they won't accidentally let something slip to the wrong person."

Acier listened, her face thoughtful, but she couldn't help adding, "You really think they'll be in the mood to attend lessons? They're going to be worried, thinking I could die at any moment."

Sebastian shrugged with a detached air. "I'll just order them to attend. As long as you and Nozel don't back them up, they won't have the courage to defy me." His voice carried that familiar coldness—the one that matched the cruel persona he'd built over the years.

Acier frowned slightly, tilting her head as she studied him. "Won't that be just as suspicious?" she questioned, her voice filled with concern.

Shaking his head, Sebastian responded firmly. "No. It's perfectly in line with the reputation I've earned. Everyone expects me to be ruthless, to be indifferent to even my own family's suffering. No one will question it."

There was a brief silence as Acier considered his words. She didn't deny it. His reputation had long been established as one of mercilessness, and this would fall right into line with that image. Still, a part of her ached at the thought of how much it cost him—and their family.

"But," she warned softly, her voice steady, "Nebra and Solid never cared much for you before. If you go through with this, they'll probably hate you with a passion."

Sebastian shrugged again, as if their hatred meant little to him. "I'll find a way to make it up to them once you're better. And if I can't... well, I'll just live with it. I don't care who hates me, as long as my family is safe."

Acier's gaze softened as she looked at him, her voice quieter when she asked, "Even if that someone is Noelle?"

Without hesitation, Sebastian nodded. "Even Noelle," he replied firmly, his resolve clear.

A beat passed before Acier's next question, her voice tinged with both curiosity and a quiet intensity. "And what if that someone is me?"

Sebastian's eyes flickered, but his response came swiftly. "That's not a matter of 'if.' You already hate me."

Acier didn't argue. She turned her gaze toward the window, her expression pensive as she stared into the deepening night. "The wounds you've inflicted on this family will take time to heal. And some of them... Nozel, Nebra, Solid... me... they may never fully recover from the scars you've left behind."

Sebastian nodded solemnly, accepting the truth in her words. "That's my sin to bear," he admitted, his voice low. "But as long as you don't shut me out of your lives completely, that's all I can ask for."

There was a long pause, the weight of their shared history hanging in the air between them. Then Acier turned back to him, her smile soft but filled with a quiet strength. "Just don't take Noelle for granted," she said gently. "She's the only one you haven't hurt yet. You weren't there for me, or for Nozel, Nebra, and Solid. But with Noelle… you still have a chance. You can be more than just a father to her. You can be a dad."

Sebastian's expression flickered, her words hitting him harder than he cared to admit. He paused, as if weighing the promise he was about to make. Then, with quiet determination, he said, "I'll do my best."

Acier's smile lingered, a mixture of hope and sadness, as she nodded. There was no need for further words; they both knew the weight of what lay ahead. For now, the silence between them felt less like a gulf and more like an unspoken understanding, one born from shared pain but also from the possibility of healing.

As Sebastian stood in the quiet room, his mind began to churn, reflecting on the softness he had shown in the past few moments. This was fine behind closed doors, or in front of those they could trust explicitly, like the Agrippas and Fausts. But to show any vulnerability in front of others, especially prying eyes, would raise far too many eyebrows and draw dangerous attention. Attention that could jeopardize Acier's treatment and recovery.

His gaze shifted downward, settling on Acier, who was now resting more comfortably. He steeled his resolve, pushing aside any lingering tenderness in his expression. His voice, steady and firm, broke the silence. "I'm going to continue treating you and the children indifferently—like garbage—in front of others," he stated with cold conviction, his eyes hardening. "It's a mask I have to wear."

Acier's eyes flickered with understanding, though a shadow of sadness crossed her face. "Is it really worth it?" she asked, her voice soft yet piercing. "Playing the role of the bad guy, drawing all the ire toward yourself, just to keep attention away from me?"

Sebastian didn't hesitate. "Yes," he replied firmly. "It's worth it."

A dramatic pause filled the room, thick with the weight of his decision. The silence between them stretched on, but there was an unspoken understanding, a shared burden they were both silently carrying.

After a moment, Acier spoke again, her voice gentle but unwavering. "You won't have to justify your actions to me in the future," she said, her eyes locking with his. "I have faith that, from now on, the only thing that will be a lie is your cruelty—not your love like before."

Sebastian stiffened at her words, feeling a strange mix of relief and guilt wash over him. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of gratitude. Her faith in him was like a tether in the storm, something to hold onto even as he prepared to continue playing the villain for the world's sake.

Acier's expression grew more complex, a mixture of emotions flitting across her face. She hesitated before speaking again, her voice quieter, more introspective. "There's something I want to talk to you about," she said, her gaze shifting to the window. "But… after I get better."

Sebastian frowned slightly, questioning why they had to wait. "We're alone now," he replied, his tone more curious than demanding. "If it's on your mind, just say it. What's stopping you?"

But Acier shook her head, her resolve firm. "No, not yet," she insisted. "I need time. Time to gather my thoughts, to really understand what I want to say. When I'm ready, I'll tell you."

Sebastian nodded, outwardly indifferent, but inwardly, his thoughts began to churn once more. He could tell that whatever Acier had to say wasn't going to be simple. It would be heavy—a conversation that would demand more than just cold logic or indifferent answers. He knew he had to prepare himself for it, to be ready for whatever truth she would eventually lay bare.

Sebastian let out a slow breath, canceling the protective barrier that had been engulfing the room. His cold exterior softened for a brief moment as he turned to Acier. "I'll be back in a moment," he said, his voice low. "I just need to take care of something first."

Before Acier could respond, there was a knock at the door. Sebastian's expression immediately sharpened, his regal mask snapping back into place as the door creaked open without waiting for an invitation. He barely had time to compose himself.

A maid stepped in, rolling a trolley of food. "It's time for Lady Acier to eat," she said, her voice faltering as she glanced up. Her eyes widened the moment she saw Sebastian standing there, the temperature of the room seeming to drop instantly. She stiffened, then immediately bowed deeply. "My lord," she stammered, her voice trembling.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, cold and cutting. "Leave the trolley," he ordered, his tone void of warmth. "And be gone."

The maid's face paled, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the cart. She was about to obey when Sebastian's voice cut through the air once more, even icier than before.

"And listen carefully," he warned, his gaze piercing. "If I hear so much as a whisper about my presence here at this villa or in this room, I will make sure you regret it."

The maid visibly trembled, her breath catching in her throat. Sweat beaded at her temples as she clutched the handle of the trolley.

"I will be watching," Sebastian continued, his voice steady and menacing. "There is very little that can happen in Castle Silva without me knowing. You would do well to remember that."

The maid nearly collapsed under the weight of his words, barely managing to choke out, "I wouldn't dare, my lord," before scrambling out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

As she fled down the hallway, Acier frowned slightly, her gaze following the door before turning back to Sebastian. "You didn't have to be so harsh on the poor girl," she said gently, her tone carrying just a hint of reproach.

Sebastian shrugged, his expression unbothered. "Servants like her tend to gossip," he replied, his tone colder than before. "The last thing we need is for word to spread. People like that only remember their place when you remind them."

He walked over to the trolley, grabbed it with ease, and rolled it to Acier's bedside. "At the end of the day, she's a servant. And what master keeps a servant who complicates their life instead of being useful?"

Acier hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. She knew there was some truth to his words, though she still didn't entirely agree with his harshness. But for now, she said nothing more. As Sebastian positioned the trolley beside her, there was a tension lingering in the air—an unspoken understanding that sometimes cruelty was a tool, even if neither of them liked it.

Sebastian's eyes softened briefly as he looked at her, though his mask remained firmly in place. For now, appearances had to be maintained, no matter the cost.

Sebastian lifted the silver tray cover, revealing a platter of delicate sweets, tarts, pastries, and other sugary treats. His frown deepened immediately, an expression of pure disapproval etched on his face. The sight was almost offensive.

Acier noticed his reaction and raised a brow. "What's wrong?"

"There's little wonder you're not in the mood to eat if this is what they're trying to force down your throat," Sebastian remarked, his tone dripping with disdain. He glanced at her frail figure, so thin she looked nearly anorexic, and his expression hardened. "You need protein, fats, carbohydrates, fruits, vegetables, high-calorie meals, and vitamin supplements. Not this junk food and sugary nonsense."

Acier blinked at him, puzzled. "Protein? Carbohydrates?" She furrowed her brows at the unfamiliar terms.

Sebastian didn't bother to respond, his mind already elsewhere. His eyes darkened as he stared at the offending tray. It's time to replace the kitchen staff, he thought, irritated. They clearly lack the common sense to understand her condition.

"Did any of your doctors prescribe a meal plan?" he asked suddenly, his tone sharp.

Acier shook her head, confusion still written on her face. "No, they haven't."

Sebastian's frown deepened. He remained silent for a moment, inwardly lamenting the state of health knowledge in this world. Even though this was a world of magic, it was practically medieval in every other sense. Their understanding of nutrition and science was severely lacking, to say the least. He made a mental note to design a proper meal plan for Acier himself, something that could actually help her recover. Once that was done, Alfred would make sure the new kitchen staff followed it to the letter.

With a sigh, Sebastian resigned himself to the current meal. "You'll just have to bear with this for one more day," he muttered, picking up a spoon and scooping up a piece of strawberry cake. He held it in front of her, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Didn't you want me to feed you?"

Acier blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing lightly as she opened her mouth to take a bite. The sweet taste lingered, but it took her a long time to swallow. She hadn't eaten much in so long that her body had almost forgotten the sensation.

Sebastian said nothing, keeping up the steady rhythm of feeding her. Spoon to mouth, chew, swallow. The silence between them was punctuated by the soft clink of the spoon against the plate as he fed her bite after bite of the cake.

After finishing just one slice, Acier held up a hand, her voice soft. "No more. I'm full."

Sebastian frowned, about to chide her for stopping so soon, but then paused, remembering that it was dangerous to push too much food on someone who had been starved for so long. Her insides were weak, fragile even. Overloading her with food now could cause serious harm.

He let out a dark chuckle at the twisted thought that crept into his mind. I'd be very sad if Acier Silva survived a year of being plagued by a supreme devil's curse, only to die of indigestion and refeeding syndrome.

Shaking his head, Sebastian nodded and set the spoon down. He recovered the tray and pushed the trolley away slightly before taking a seat at her bedside. His eyes softened as he looked at her, but he kept his tone casual, as though the moment was nothing special.

Sebastian glanced at Acier, her frail form still lying in bed, and he could sense her exhaustion even though she tried to hide it behind her stoic expression. He took a deep breath and said softly, "Lie down, Acier. It's time for your daily healing treatment."

Acier nodded, allowing him to help her ease back onto the bed, but as she settled, she glanced at him with a faint look of curiosity. "Didn't you say you had something else to do?"

Sebastian shook his head, his expression resolute. "It can wait. You're more important right now."

She looked away, pretending to be indifferent, but her heart betrayed her, starting to beat faster at his words. She could feel something warm and unfamiliar stirring within her, but she wasn't sure what to make of it.

Sebastian's grimoire floated beside him, its pages glowing as he activated his spell. "Water Recovery Magic: Blessed Bath of Heavenly Healing." The air around them shimmered with magic as a cocoon of pure, radiant water formed around Acier. It was a strange sensation—the water enveloped her completely, yet it didn't make her wet or restrict her breathing. Instead, it gently seeped into her body, like a comforting embrace, flowing through her veins and soothing the deep aches she had been living with for months.

For three long hours, Sebastian poured every ounce of mana he had into the spell, his face etched with focus and concentration. The water's healing energy worked wonders, slowly but surely alleviating Acier's pain, mending what the curse had torn apart. By the time he finally released the spell, his body was drenched in sweat, and his limbs felt heavy. He slumped into the chair beside the bed, completely spent, his chest rising and falling with deep, exhausted breaths.

Acier stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. She blinked, feeling... lighter. The constant, crushing pain had subsided, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she could sit up on her own. Looking at Sebastian, gratitude filled her heart. "I feel... so much better," she whispered softly.

Sebastian glanced at her, offering a tired but satisfied smile. "Good. That's what matters."

With trembling legs, Acier slowly stood from the bed. Her body felt foreign—weak and unsteady—but the pain was gone. She took a cautious step toward him, her movements wobbly and unsure. Sebastian watched her closely, and when she stumbled, he immediately shot up, catching her before she could fall.

"Careful," he said softly, his hands steadying her. "You haven't walked in over a month. Your body isn't used to it anymore."

It was only then that he realized how close they were—her face mere inches from his, her breath warm against his skin. His throat went dry, and he awkwardly gulped, trying to create some distance between them. He gently kept her at arm's length, just enough to provide support without crossing that invisible line.

Acier stuttered out a soft, awkward, "Thank you." She reached for his shoulder, leaning on him for support as they slowly began to walk around the room together. Each step was hesitant at first, but with every minute, her movements became more natural, her balance returning as she adjusted to using her legs again.

For five minutes, they moved together in silence, her hand resting on his shoulder as he guided her. There was a quiet intimacy to it, a moment that felt heavier than either of them expected. When Acier finally managed to walk on her own, Sebastian let her go, watching as she took cautious steps without his help.

But inwardly, he felt a pang of regret. As much as he was proud to see her recover, part of him wished that moment—the closeness, the shared warmth—could've lasted just a little longer.

As Acier stepped out onto her patio balcony, the cool night air greeted her with a gentle embrace. She leaned against the railing, closing her eyes for a moment to soak in the quiet and the distant sound of rustling leaves. It was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that had dominated her life for so long. Sebastian followed her, standing quietly beside her, his presence both calming and reassuring.

The moonlight bathed the landscape in soft, silvery hues, casting long shadows over the villa grounds. Sebastian, his gaze lingering on the horizon, broke the silence. "You know," he said softly, "it's only during moments like these—when no one's watching—that you can truly be yourself."

Acier sighed, the sound barely more than a breath. "I know," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

Sebastian turned his head to glance at her. "You shouldn't let anyone know you're getting better," he said, his tone firm but careful. "Tomorrow, I'll ask Lilith to cast another illusion over you. You'll still appear sick—worse, even. Like you're nearing death."

Acier frowned but didn't look at him. Her eyes stayed on the darkened landscape, her fingers tightening slightly on the cold iron of the railing. "I understand," she whispered, though the words felt heavy in her chest.

Sebastian continued, his mind already spinning with plans. "I'll reduce the patrols around your villa. No need to draw attention. I'll alternate with Alfred and Nozel to deliver your meals. That way, you can move around more freely, spend more time out of bed without anyone knowing."

She finally turned to face him, her expression softening. For the first time in a while, she gave him a genuine, beautiful smile, one that caught him off guard. "Thank you," she said, her voice gentle.

Sebastian felt his face heat up, and he awkwardly gulped, nodding in response. He looked away quickly, pretending to admire the view, trying to mask the slight blush creeping up his cheeks. The tension between them hung in the air, and for a brief moment, neither of them knew what to say next.

Just then, a soft buzzing sound broke the silence. Sebastian's magic transponder lit up, its glow pulling him back into the moment. He pressed his hand to the device, his voice cool and composed. "Yes, Alfred?"

The voice of the Silva Head Butler came through the line, calm and precise as always. "My Lord, I've found her."

Sebastian blinked in surprise, his mind racing to catch up. He hadn't expected results so soon. Alfred's efficiency was nothing short of remarkable. "Already?" he asked, amazement slipping into his voice despite himself.

"Yes, My Lord," Alfred confirmed.

Sebastian stood there for a moment, processing the news. He glanced at Acier, who had turned her gaze back to the night sky, unaware of the sudden turn in his thoughts. Alfred's discovery could mean a shift in their plans—another variable to account for. But for now, he allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.

"Well done," he said into the transponder, his voice now carrying the weight of new possibilities.